Chapter 11

Her bedroom door was closed when we passed it, but I stopped for a short moment when I could faintly hear the voices of all the women comforting a loudly crying Ava, producing unintelligible words I probably wouldn’t even understand if the door was open. The sounds alone made it clear that my sister was not just engaging in some girly attention seeking, but rather full blown ugly crying. Nonetheless, instead of even thinking about going in there, I couldn’t help but wonder about the difference between her and me. More than once, I was the one crying alone in my room with none of them giving a flying fuck about it, but when the princess was sad, half the family jumped into action.

Me stopping in the hallway seemed to prompt Claire to start her explanation for Ava’s emotional display.

“When you gave her that present, it must ha...”

“I really don’t give a shit.” I interrupted her in a deadpan voice.

I didn’t like the disapproval I saw in her eyes before I continued my way to the bedroom, but I ignored it. The longer I stayed out of bed and argued with them in my current state, the worse this would get. So, I just took my pants off and crawled under my covers while groaning over the pain my movements caused.

“What are you doing?” I asked, as Claire immediately started undressing herself.

“Can’t I stay, Baby? I know you’re angry ... but I want to hold you just a little longer.” Her voice was quiet.

The pleading tone instantly curbed most of my anger. It was sweet, in a way. And it seemed honest. But it also ticked me off a little, because she seemingly had missed my predicament. In my prevailing mindset, this was yet another display of them only thinking about their own needs and wishes.

“Claire ... I appreciate the thought. I really do. But I have a broken rib and a fucked up arm on my left side, and a bruised kidney and another fucked up arm on my right side. So, unless you’re planning to roll up like a cat and sleep between my feet, I’ll have to be in this bed alone for now.”

I had to suppress a smirk when I saw her actually look at my feet for a split second before looking me in the eyes again.

“Okay, Baby. I love you.” she said, after giving me a kiss on the forehead.

Then she just stood there, like she was waiting for the answer I couldn’t give without lying, and watched me close my eyes.

“Good night.” I mumbled instead.

I didn’t know how long I actually slept, because I had no idea at what time I crawled into bed, but it was dark outside when I jolted upright, panting heavily, and covered in sweat. My heartbeat was hammering up to my throat, my hands were shaking, and my body trembling. I Jumped out of bed and searched my surroundings. Not finding anything unusual, I looked through the window overlooking our driveway. It had happened almost every night since Bill and I went to Austin, so I knew what I had to do before I could calm down again.

Slowly and determined to make as little noise as possible, I made my way through the house. Carefully stepping into every room of the house to make sure everything and everyone was safe, and make sure the room’s windows were firmly closed while not showing any entry marks.

I found Maggie and Danielle sleeping soundly, cuddled up with Ava in her bed. Claire and Aaron were lightly snoring in their bedroom. Logan did the same alone in his own room, while Granny and Grandpa were enthusiastically snoring in the guest room.

I continued to check the rest of the rooms, doors, and windows, paying extra attention to the big patio door in the living room, and relocking the front door just to hear it actually lock. But, unlike all the other times I woke up in this state, I was still feeling uneasy after I had walked through the entire house.

Back from the basement, I paced through the living room for a few minutes, trying to figure out what I was missing, until I decided to get myself another drink, hoping it would help. I knew that fear was (probably) irrational. I also knew that waking up like this in the middle of the night wasn’t exactly a good sign, and using alcohol to combat it was downright stupid. But I thought it would pass once it really settled in that we were safe.

Holding my whisky glass, I suddenly realized what it was that kept nagging me. I couldn’t find John! Everyone else was accounted for, only he was missing, and after finding his wife and daughter in the house, I would have expected him to be around as well. Sure, he probably just preferred his own bed over crashing on the sofa or sharing with Logan, but I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally at that moment, so I decided to shoot him a text.

I knew by then that it was half past three at night, he would be in deep sleep right now, so I was reluctant to call. Then I remembered that my phone was busted, which meant that I couldn’t send any texts. After unsuccessfully trying to just calm down once more, I grabbed the landline and called him, my anxiety growing slightly with each ring tone that went unanswered. Finally, I heard his tired voice.

“Walker residence?” I could almost hear him suppress a yawn and rub his eyes.

“John? You Okay?” I asked, immediately feeling embarrassed about waking him at that hour over my own shit.

“Tim!? Yeah! Why, what happened?” Shit. The tiredness had instantly vanished from his voice, and was replaced with alarm.

“No! Everything’s fine! Sorry. I just ... I couldn’t find you when I made my round, even though Maggie and Danielle are here. I thought, maybe ... I may ‘ve ... overreacted. Sorry, again.” I stammered, trying to explain my reasons without admitting to what actually went on in my head.

“Oh. No problem. Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. Thanks for checking, though!” Fuck, that was embarrassing!

“Yeah. Well, sorry for waking you up. Good night!” I said, greatly appreciating him not asking too many questions.

For a few minutes after the call had ended, I remained in the dark living room and watched a cat walk around our backyard. I was pulling down a single panel of the blinds, so I could watch it without exposing the rest of me standing there and scaring it away, while sipping my drink. Suddenly, a voice ripped me out of my funk. When I spun around, I saw Danielle leaning against the doorframe leading into the living room.

“Good Morning, Tim.” she half whispered as to not wake the rest of the house, while I was still blinking at her in surprise.

“Morning. Why are you up? Everything alright?”

“John called me a few minutes ago.” she explained, giving me a meaningful look.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” I said, looking back out the windows to hide my embarrassment.

John, that damned traitor! That’s why he didn’t ask questions. He must have called her the moment I had hung up instead. Meaning, she possibly had just stood there watching me for a while.

“So ... you make rounds through the house?” she asked, walking to stand next to me, “In the middle of the night?”

“Yes. So?”

“You do that often?”

She tried to sound casual, but I could also hear a distinct tone of professionalism, telling me this wasn’t just idle conversation with my Aunt. It was more likely a session with my Aunt the therapist. I looked at her, contemplating whether I should - or rather wanted to - tell her. And if so, how much.

“Most nights, yes.” I answered blandly. Noticing her look I added. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

She grabbed my drink out of my hand, brought it up to her nose, and sniffed it.

“Yeah, sure. Waking up in the dead of night to check on us, and then drinking alone in a dark room, basically screams ‘I’m fine’, Tim!”

“Who says I wake up to check on you people? I just make sure the house is Okay.”

“So you do wake up to check, instead of checking when you just happen to wake up? And if it’s not to check on us, why did you call John to make sure he was Okay?”

Obviously I wasn’t as quick-witted as I thought.

“Where the fuck’s all that perceptiveness suddenly coming from that you’ve been missing for the past four years?” I muttered under my breath, taking my drink back from her hands, and causing her to wince and regard me with sad eyes.

“I know I failed you, Tim. I’m sorry.” she responded after placing a hand on my biceps, “There isn’t anything I could say in my defense that wouldn’t sound like a cheap excuse, or like I’m trying to shift the blame. All I can say is, I’m trying to do better, because I do care about you.”

Hearing that almost knocked me on my ass. It was the first time I had heard any of them fully acknowledge my grief, while actually apologizing for the part they played in the shit I had endured. No ‘I’m sorry, BUT... ‘, or ‘I’m sorry you feel that way’. She actually admitted that my aversion towards them was fully warranted, without any attempt to play it down or relativize her part in it. Even Claire had, the night we had sex, only apologized specifically for not realizing that Tess had died, and gave me a ‘I didn’t intend to... ‘ for all the other crap.

“Well ... try me.” I challenged her.

“What?”

“Now that you said you’re sorry and want to do better, I’d like to hear the reasons, even if they sound like excuses. Because I really would like to understand how in the hell we reached this point.” I clarified, and saw her body slump in on itself. “You are a psychologist after all. So, I have a little trouble understanding how anything you just claimed is possible, after you let it all happen.”

She thought about it for a while, looking at her feet, before she sighed in resignation.

“I could tell you that we don’t live together, so I never directly witnessed the signs of depression in you. I could tell you that you had already withdrawn yourself and kept your distance from us when you entered high school, so I never directly witnessed the signs of you being bullied. Or I could tell you that I specialized in couples therapy, not child psychology, so I wasn’t able to see the signs from a distance either. But the simple truth is ... that you were right with what you said to me. The mere fact that a fourteen year old child withdrew himself from his family should have made me ask questions, but I was content with my life and the fun we were having, so I readily accepted Aaron’s remarks about harmless sibling rivalry.”

By the end of her explanation, she had to strain her voice to keep her embarrassment out of it.

“And what about after you finally found out?” I asked quietly. “I suspect John told you about our little talk in the car?”

“Yes.” she nodded somberly, “He has. Tim, after we tried to make them remember your birthday last year, your Grandmother justifiably dressed us all down and demanded of Claire and Aaron to fix what was wrong. And, despite what you think, I did talk with them. One of the reasons I hounded you for the last year was that I wanted to help that process along. When you kept refusing to talk with me, I relied on what I heard from your parents and siblings, who made it all sound like you just weren’t interested.”

“Really!?” I asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Yes, Tim, really.” she said in a sad voice, “Your brother and father sounded very convincing. Especially since, until two weeks ago, I had no idea how bad things really were from your perspective.” She paused to sigh again. “So, there you have your answer to why we never offered to take you in. John and I also talked about introducing you to our family activities ourselves if Claire wouldn’t, but it simply wasn’t our place. It’s the parents’ responsibility to decide when their children are ready for it. All we knew was that we forgot your birthday, and that Aaron preferred Logan over you. So, honestly, we had little reason to doubt their words when they claimed you simply didn’t want to. At least not until your grandfather called and told John about your disappearance.”

She was right. To me, this did sound like a bunch of excuses. But she had already acknowledged that she simply screwed up, and seemed to genuinely regret that.

“So ... what’s the plan now?” I asked, and noticed her acting pensive all of a sudden.

“There are ... other concerns.” she replied carefully, “Now that I finally realized my mistake and started looking at things a little more ... critically ... I’m afraid there are a lot more things going wrong. I’ll have to talk with the others about it. I think we need to make some serious changes about the way we handle things.”

“I think that’s obvious.” I injected, which she ignored.

“Right now, my main concern is you. I will make this right, Tim. I will not fail you again. So, right now, I need to make sure you’re actually Okay like you claimed you are.”

“Well, fine, I’m not Okay. Happy?” She grinned. “But I will be.”

“Meaning?” She insisted on keeping this talk going.

I realized how long we had already stood around while talking, and it seemed like this talk would go on for a while longer. So, I moved over to the loveseat and found my shirt from the day before draped across a chair. I guess they weren’t sure if they should try to wash out the blood or just throw it away. I took a seat, fully expecting her to sit in the armchair opposing me to complete the picture of a therapist in session. She surprised me, however, by sitting right next to me instead. I took a sip of my drink, more to buy some time than to sort my thoughts.

“The last two weeks were just ... a little stressful.” I started,

“That’s slightly understated, but go on.” she smiled.

“And ... I haven’t slept that well in a while. I just need to realize we’re finally out of the woods; it’ll fix itself.”

She nodded, stood up and walked into the kitchen. Then she came back with a drink of her own, though she preferred a glass of wine I had no idea we even had in the house. Then she sat back next to me, and gave me a searching look.

“When you wake up, how do you feel?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if it makes you check on us, do you feel like something’s wrong? Or something might happen?”

“Yes.”

“And how are you physically when that happens? How does your body feel?”

I thought about that a little before I answered.

“Like ... when the fight with those guys in the parking lot started. Like that.”

“You mean ... heart palpitations?” I nodded. “Heavy breathing?” I nodded again. “Body trembling, hands shaking?” I wanted to shake my head, but she was spot on. “Do you always get a drink when that happens?”

“No. Usually, I just make my rounds and get better once I arrive in the basement.” I ignored the sight of her raising her eyebrow when I used the word ‘Usually’, indirectly admitting how regularly it was happening. “But today was just ... it didn’t go away until I understood that John was missing and called him. By then, I had already tried the drink.”

“You do realize, this sounds like you’re waking up with panic attacks?” she asked matter of fact. I just stared at her for a moment.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“What do you think it is, then?” she asked patiently.

“I don’t know, pick something else. I don’t do ‘panic attacks’! Why would I!? I don’t clamp up like Aaron, or run away like Logan! I deal with it when shit happens. And why the hell would I get hysterical now, when it’s over and solved!?”

I heard her let out a heavy sigh after I finished.

“I should’ve expected that response, after you spent so much time with Bill and his boys...” she mumbled to herself before continuing louder while looking directly into my eyes. “You’re not ‘hysterical’, Tim. The last two weeks were a lot more than just ‘a little stressful’! You almost died when you were stabbed. The entire two weeks since then were spent worrying and staying awake for days in a row. To protect us, you went against very dangerous people. And finally, when it was supposed to be over, you got assaulted again and found yourself thrown into yet another life-and-death situation! That takes a toll. It accumulates. And it’s especially too much for a seventeen-year-old.”

“But it IS over now.” I protested, failing to control the volume of my voice. She surprised me by taking my hand before answering.

“No, it’s not. Not for your body, at least. You’re still hurting. Your ribs, your side, your arms ... I think, when you agitate your wounds by moving in your sleep, the sudden pain sends your brain right back into the fight-or-flight state you basically maintained over weeks now. When did it start getting so bad?”

I sure as shit was not going to tell this woman that it got really bad just after I got back from Austin. Which, coincidentally, was also when they all moved to the supposed hotel and left me alone in the house. That would just give her ammunition to stop me from going back home. Instead, I deflected.

“Well ... that certainly sounds better than a panic attack. How’s Ava, by the way?” It gave her pause for a second.

“I thought you didn’t care?” She and Claire had apparently talked after I went to sleep.

“I said that when you, Maggie, and Granny were looking after her. But seeing how you and Maggie opted to sleep with her instead of going home with John ... maybe it was more serious than I thought. Unless, of course, it wasn’t because she needed emotional support, and you instead just continued the fun you all had over the last week.”

“Tim! We would never do that!” She genuinely sounded hurt.

“You wouldn’t? You all spent my last two birthdays having lovely get-togethers, while I was at work. Remember what you were doing that Thanksgiving, when you all had finally realized that it was my birthday? If memory serves, Aaron and Grandpa were spitroasting Ava, and your daughter was blowing Logan, while you were discussing how and why our relationship had turned to shit. While I was risking my life, taking out those guys, you were in the mood to have at least a foursome. And now you tell me, you’d never do something like that?”

I was neither shouting, nor was my tone sounding angry. I was calmly pointing out why she was talking bullshit. After everything that happened that night, I was past angry. Though, I wondered if she picked up on the little part about Ava being spitroasted on Thanksgiving. They now knew that I knew about the family orgies for a while, but that was a detail I had no way of knowing.

“I already said I’m sorry, Tim. And I meant it when I said I’ll do better. What happened with Logan while you were out there putting your life on the line ... That’s one of the things I talked about just now. One of the things we need to change.”

“Please explain.” I said with great interest, causing her to, once again, look at me in great shame.

“Tim, we did not do that out of disrespect to you, or because we didn’t appreciate what you were doing for us. We did that because we were worried about you.”

“I’m not following.”

“I’m afraid we’ve all grown a little too ... accustomed to sex. John disagrees with me on that one, but it isn’t anywhere near as meaningful as it once was. It became something we simply do to feel good. That day, we were all stressed out of our minds. We tried calling you a dozen times throughout the night, and every time you didn’t answer, it got worse. We could always use sex to ease that tension.” she finished in a quiet voice.

I groaned, “Please tell me that you realize how much of a ‘Fuck you’ that is to me.”

“Yes. I do now.” she said in an even smaller voice. “At the time though ... When your Mom and Susy saw Logan after those men roughed him up, they wanted him to feel better. Aaron argued that we can’t hold it against him if he told those men about you, because he was scared. If either of us were in a similar situation, we would probably also say whatever we thought would get us out of it. And he was right. I would have done the same. It ... made sense.”

As she told me that, my eyes widened in disbelief. These fucking assholes had used Bill’s words, that he used to keep me focused on my task instead of my hatred for Logan, to justify their Golden Boy’s betrayal of his own brother!

I also realized something else. After what happened during the week before my trip to Austin, I had hoped that they would finally come around and acknowledge me as part of their family. Ava had displayed her willingness when I woke up next to her, Granny had come on to me in a similar situation, and Claire had actually slept with me. Now, however, after learning how mundane and meaningless these activities were for them ... this was obviously not what I had secretly hoped for.

“Tim.” her voice pulled me out of my thoughts, accompanied by the feeling of her holding my hand. “Please believe me. I’m really sorry.”

I sighed.

“I do. You did not pull any punches when it came to your involvement and your motivation for it. And your apology is the only reason I’m talking to you in the first place. It was the first time any of you even tried to apologize. I appreciate it, though it’s still too late. Too much happened that I won’t be able to forget.”

“Tim, don’t say that.” she pleaded, “I talked to Claire after you went to sleep. You know, she and Aaron noticed how you never say it back anymore when they tell you they love you. And, believe it or not, it hurts them a lot when they see how much damage they caused. They realize how much they hurt you. I told them we need to take this slow, respect your pace, and take what you offer, but I think it’s...”

“Wait. Whatever happened to ‘Please, just let her hold you for a while. She needs this right now’?” I interrupted, repeating her words from just a few hours ago, “Why do you keep asking me to do shit for them? Why is fixing what they broke on me?”

“It’s not. It’s on us, and we know it. I just also know that you really want your family back. Why else did you try to make John understand what happened with us, when you drove to the office together, if not to give us a chance to fix it?”

It was true. That was the exact reason why I had tried to make John understand what was happening in this family. But not necessarily to fix their relationship with me, but rather so they can fix their shit before Maggie and Ava suffer from the long-term consequences.

“Did it work?” I asked her in a subdued voice.

“Yes.” she smiled, “He was ... quite shocked about what you told him, and was seriously concerned after mulling it over. So, I take it we do have a chance to get you back?”

“Did Claire tell you that we...?” I asked carefully, without actually saying what I was asking.

“Yes. Ava too, by the way. If what she told us was true, and the way she looked and walked suggests it was, I’m impressed, my dear Nephew.” she laughed.

“You know...” I paused, looking at my hands, feeling embarrassed about it but, at the same time, also feeling the need to make her understand. “The best part about the night with Claire was the way she held me afterwards. The way you all behaved after Thanksgiving also made me think we could work on this. But every time I get my hopes up, some shit happens, and I have a hard time believing you again.”

“Like what?” she asked, sounding confused. Which ticked me off again.

“Oh, well, let me think.” I half called out, while throwing my hands in the air. “How about Ava presenting me a birthday gift, and then it turns out to be a cruel joke. How about you and John realizing how bad our relationship had gotten, and then accepting it as the new normal. Granny and Gramps proclaiming how important it is we fix our relationship, right before they fuck off on another cruiseship for a year. Aaron protested how dangerous my plan was, but then readily agrees to everything I’d get thrown my way, as long as it keeps fucking Logan out of danger. Or how about me thinking that Claire and Ava coming onto me could mean that they finally accept me, just to now be told how utterly meaningless a gesture that is for you all. Which, by the way, is a real nut shot if you consider how you all excluded me from the family orgies for years, even though it’s apparently the same for you as brewing coffee! Should I fucking continue!?”

“Okay...” she conceded with an embarrassed look, but I was not even close to being done.

“And all of that happened after you all gave so little of a shit about me, you didn’t even notice that your underaged son, brother, and nephew was gone for a week! I got fucking trust issues here, Danielle, and now you’re asking me to just accept your word on how you all made a mental One-Eighty? Even if I could believe you ... After last week, I’m not even sure if I wanted to anymore.”

“Okay! You’re right. Everything you just said is true. We’ve got to prove ourselves. And we want to! Just tell me you’ll let us prove it to you.”

Sure, I wished I had a family. Ever since I saw them on Ava’s sixteenth birthday, the way they cared for her was all I wanted for myself as well. But did I still care about that now? After those past years, did I still care for them? And more importantly, even if this was their genuine attempt to fix it, and not just a guilt trip like I feared, would they still want to mend our relationship if they knew what I’ve done?

“You know I killed those men, right?” I said quietly, causing her to jerk away from me in shocked surprise.

“WHAT!?”

“You weren’t there when those three guys came for us in that parking lot.” I explained, my voice just as low as when my initial confession slipped out, and I was still unable to look at her. “Bill told me how they normally handled debtors who wouldn’t or couldn’t pay them. They tried to shoot me and managed to stab me. They were prepared to kill us, but they actually came to take you, Maggie, Claire and Ava back to Austin with them. To clear Logan’s debt, they would’ve tried to blackmail you all into making porn. And if that wouldn’t work, they would’ve drugged you, dragged you in front of a camera, and filmed as each of you got raped by the five of them, creating as much videomaterial as possible to sell.”

Her eyes had grown big, no longer just expressing shock as I talked, but also fright. I just continued.

“After Bill told me that, I looked for the videos they produced online and found a few. The first time I watched one, I was surprised the woman could even move when they were finally done with her. So, I looked into her, just to make sure. She did make it out of the building ... but after those videos were published, she apparently couldn’t deal with the humiliation. The people they worked with are even worse than them! Even if I hate you all for what you did, I couldn’t let that shit happen. So ... I stole from his partners, and pinned it on him and his last remaining goon. If it worked out ... and it seems it did ... there is no way they let them live.”

“Tim...” she started to say, but nothing else came as she just stared at me.

“Still want me around?”

This was something that bothered me a lot, ever since it happened. I didn’t know for sure whether the Bookie and his men were actually dead, of course, but I knew this was the most likely outcome for them, even before we drove to Austin. Bill had made sure I understood that part as soon as I told him about my plan. When he asked me whether I knew what they did to people who steal from them, he wasn’t just warning me about the consequences of getting caught stealing. He was warning me about the consequences of succeeding in framing others.

I didn’t tell Danielle to get sympathy points, or make her feel indebted, or anything like that. I just had to tell someone, and ever since the blowout on Thanksgiving, I had decided that we all needed to know exactly where our problems came from. If they wanted to work on our relationship, they first needed to know why we no longer had one. In return, they deserved to know what I did in Austin, so they could decide if rebuilding a relationship with me was something worth working for.

If this confession would lead to them letting me go, or them finally deciding they didn’t want someone like me close to them anymore, nothing would be lost either. I would simply continue living like I already had for years, just not in this house.

But instead of doing anything like that, she leaned over, wrapped her arms around my neck, and pulled my head into her breasts. She just held me like that for a long time, while her hands combed through my hair.

I won’t lie, I enjoyed it immensely. Being held like that was something I missed a lot. And then the old doubts came back. Any affection or concern they had shown me happened just after they realized that they needed me. I was used to expecting disappointment and looking for their hidden agenda. I simply had no way to know if this was genuine.

“Why are you holding me?” I said, trying to control myself. “This is ... not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Curse at me? Wake the others and tell them what I did? Tell me to get away from you?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she just held me tighter before finally speaking.

“Oh, Honey ... you were not the one who killed them, if that even happened.”